


Snip Snip

by mandaree1



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Pre-Canon, Scrooge Whiskers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 11:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: "Do we gotta, Uncle Donald?" Dewey whines as the duck approaches. Tiny little feathers hang from his cheeks, ragged and slightly curly. "I really, really wanna keep 'em. They make us look like Scrooge McDuck!"





	Snip Snip

Uncle Donald's bags are bigger and darker than they've ever been as he sits them all on individual stools. There's a slouch to his shoulders as he drapes a hand towel around each of their necks, using cheap bag clips to hold them there. He slowly shambles over to the drawer and pulls out a small pair of safety scissors.

"Do we gotta, Uncle Donald?" Dewey whines as the duck approaches. Tiny little feathers hang from his cheeks, ragged and slightly curly. "I really, really wanna keep 'em. They make us look like Scrooge McDuck!"

Uncle Donald flinches, then sighs, shaking his head. "You gotta, boys," he rumbles. "School says so."

Huey watches as Uncle Donald gently grabs the edges of one side on Louie's face, clipping them with little snips. "How come?"

"You look like old men," he says, finally pulling away. Louie has the look of an agitated cat, minus the tail, as Uncle Donald examines him, hands on his hips. "There. Isn't that much better?"

He hesitantly reaches up to rub the now flat spot, feathers crinkling as they move. Louie shrugs. "I guess."

Dewey squirms and grumbles, leaving his feather uneven, but Uncle Donald doesn't berate him for it. Huey stands as still as possible, mildly afraid of the bite of the cold shears, and then it's all over and done. Uncle Donald instructs them to stay while he gets the broom to sweep everything up. The boys test their less fluffy faces with various levels of discomfort.

"Will they grow back?" Dewey asks, tears in his eyes, lip trembling slightly.

Uncle Donald stops mid-sweep, crouched low to gather them in a dust bin. An almost guilty look crosses his face, but it quickly hardens. "No, Dewey. They won't." He turns back to his task without any gusto. "They were just a puberty thing."

**Author's Note:**

> Take this random, small dose of Ducks Being Somewhat Angsty. (School says so my butt, Donald. You just didn't want anybody to recognize them.)
> 
> -Mandaree1


End file.
